Page 85 of Echos and Empires
A guard appeared ahead, and Liam signaled. Alex’s response was swift and lethal—a hand across the throat, and the body slumped quietly to the ground. They moved on, ghosts in a machine that didn’t know it was haunted.
“Eyes on the prize,” Liam reminded them. His voice was low but carried the weight of his conviction.
They weaved through the maze-like corridors, the oppressive silence a tangible force pressing down on them. To Liam, the world seemed to contract and expand with each breath. He felt the pull of victory close enough to taste but knew too well how quickly it could turn to ashes.
The halls were filled with reminders of Victor’s reach—opulent portraits with eyes that seemed to follow their every move, symbols of power and control that cast long, ominous shadows. But Liam’s gaze never wavered. They’d planned for this, for every possibility, and so far, everything was going according to script.
A door loomed ahead, larger than the others, and Liam’s instincts screamed at him. He motioned the team to halt. This was it. He could feel it in his bones.
“Ready for final breach,” he said into the headset. His voice was calm, the eye of a storm.
Hardee, one of the team members he’d worked closest with in the navigation rooms, moved quietly to the front, his movements practiced and sure. But something was off. Liam’s gut twisted, a silent alarm that he couldn’t yet name. Hardee was too eager, too quiet.
“Move on my mark,” Liam said, but the confidence had turned to doubt, a shadow creeping across his thoughts.
They gathered, hearts pounding in unison. Liam’s hand went to the door, and in that moment, he saw the truth written in the way Hardee’s eyes didn’t meet his. The trap was theirs, but Victor had turned it.
Liam’s mouth went dry, his hammering against his chest. He barely heard his own voice as he gave the command, the final word before everything unraveled.
Hardee slipped through the shadows with a fluidity that set Liam’s nerves jangling. The air felt charged, thick with the wrongness of things unseen. Liam’s suspicion spread like ink in water as Hardee edged further ahead, his footfalls nearly soundless.
It happened so quickly—a heartbeat between trust and treachery. Hardee wheeled around, gun raised, betrayal written on every line of his face.
“Drop it, Liam.”
The words struck like the bullet meant for Liam’s heart. A double agent. Victor’s hand pulling the strings. The moment slowed to a painful crawl as the trap closed in.
The world tilted, a surreal shift that made him question the ground under his feet. How could Hardee, one of their own, be in league with Victor? The possibility had lurked in his mind, a shadow he refused to give shape. But now it was all too real, staring him down the barrel of a gun.
“You son of a bitch.” Liam heard how rough his voice was, raw with disbelief.
“Did you really think you’d win this? That everyone was stupid enough to attack or leave just because some things happened to scare them the other day?” Hardee’s smirk was a knife twist, a mockery of the bond they’d formed over late nights staring at screens for the last six months. “Kirk knew because of me. Now you know because of me, too.”
Liam’s heart hammered against his ribs. It was like every betrayal he’d ever known, distilled into one brutal instant. He couldn’t let it paralyze him, couldn’t let Victor take more than he already had. The team looked to Liam, waiting for a cue, their own shock reflected in wide eyes and tense grips.
“Hardee, don’t do this.” The plea slipped out, a remnant of hope that hadn’t yet accepted the truth. But the look in Hardee’s eyes was cold and resolute.
Liam’s mind raced, processing the danger, the duplicity, the way Victor always seemed to twist fate in his favor. He needed to act, needed to lead, but the enormity of it all hung around his neck like a weight, threatening to drag him under.
Hardee’s reinforcements were closing in, footsteps and shouted orders filling the space with an echo of betrayal. Everything they’d worked for, everything they’d planned, was unraveling in front of him, and it all traced back to Hardee’s treachery.
“Go!” Liam shouted, his command breaking the paralysis. His voice was hoarse with anger and urgency.
Time snapped back to normal speed. The team scattered, taking cover as gunfire erupted. Liam dove behind a column, his thoughts a furious mix of strategy and raw emotion. The betrayal had been clean, surgical in its precision, and the realization stung like salt in a fresh wound. Hardee had played them all and had been Victor’s pawn from the start.
Liam’s hands were steady as he checked his weapon, but inside he was a riot of conflict. This was supposed to be their moment, the turn of the tide. Instead, they were fighting for their lives, and every shot that rang out was a reminder of how quickly the tables had turned.
“Hold your positions!” he yelled, forcing his voice to carry the strength he needed to project. If they could hold the line, they might still have a chance. They had to regroup, had to push back with everything they had.
Hardee’s laughter carried over the din, a taunt that curled Liam’s insides with rage. “Always one step behind, aren’t you?”
Liam forced himself to focus, to channel the turmoil into action. He wouldn’t let Hardee see him break, wouldn’t giveVictor the satisfaction of seeing them fall apart. His mind snapped through possibilities, looking for a way to salvage the mission, to keep the team intact.
“Alex!” he called, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Alex responded with a burst of gunfire, covering the others as they repositioned. “Still breathing, if that’s what you mean.”
“Circle right,” Liam ordered, mapping out a desperate strategy. “Flank them.”
